


Boys are Dumb

by vinniebatman



Category: Criminal Minds
Genre: Drunk Sex, M/M, female plotting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-03
Updated: 2013-04-03
Packaged: 2017-12-07 08:42:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,515
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/746555
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vinniebatman/pseuds/vinniebatman
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After a few drinks, Spencer and Derek give in to their mutual attraction.  But when things end up awkward, it's up to the ladies of the BAU to set things right.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Boys are Dumb

**Author's Note:**

> **Dedication:** Written for my dear friend [](http://suki-blue.livejournal.com/profile)[**suki_blue**](http://suki-blue.livejournal.com/) whom I love more than fudge.  
>  **Author's Note:** So, most sites say that Matthew Gray Gubler's eyes are green. [ According to this picture](http://images2.fanpop.com/images/photos/7200000/Matthew-Gray-Gubler-Comic-Con-2009-criminal-minds-7289438-1993-2560.jpg), I think his eyes are likely hazel. So I'm going with hazel, but if you have a picture proving the green, let me know.

* * * * * * * * * *

"I don't think they liked my present," Spencer said. Again.

So Derek consoled him. Again. "They liked it just fine, man."

"But--"

Derek caught the cab driver's amused eye roll. "Enough, boy genius. They liked it, but you have to admit; an original printing of 'Winnie the Pooh,' though an awesome gift, is just not as adorable as matching baseball caps for Will and the baby that say 'me' and 'mini-me.'"

"Yeah, I guess," Spencer acknowledged, his thin frame slumping against the door. The strap to his satchel, normally hung neatly from his shoulder, was twisted around his arm, his jacket and pants wrinkled while his scarf haphazardly clung to his throat.

Will and J.J.'s baby shower had been a nice night, held at an upscale grill. The kind that had jackets just in case a man didn't have one, but they'd had a good time, laughing over the presents. Penelope had managed to find a soft, stuffed, toy lap top for the baby. And aside from J.J., most of them had probably had too much to drink, Derek included. He hadn't even attempted to drive home; he'd just pocketed his car keys and hailed a cab, offering to split the bill with Spencer. Had Derek been sober, he would have driven Spencer home, anyways. No one had appointed him Spencer's guardian, but Derek gladly looked over the younger man. Each time the team met for drinks, Derek looked forward to driving Spencer home.

Derek grinned, ignoring the flutter in his stomach. He always marveled at the fact that women weren't throwing themselves at Spencer. Sure, he was skinny and kind of dorky looking, but even first glance was more than enough to notice the thick, shaggy hair, deep hazel eyes, and that incredible smile.

Not to mention his almost scary, huge-ass brain, sweetly awkward personality and mouth-watering ass. His ass was lean, all muscle, and it looked like it was the perfect size for Derek's hands. Granted, most people couldn't see Spencer's ass under the clothes he wore, but in sharing hotel rooms over the last four years, Derek'd gotten a glimpse or two. Kid was lanky, no doubt, but sinewy and nicely muscled. Just what Derek liked in a man.

 _Maybe it's a good thing women don't know his good his ass is,_ he thought, grinning at the streetlights as they passed.

Of course, that made Derek feel guilty. He knew that he had no right to hope that Spencer would stay alone. Spencer was a close friend and coworker; Derek should want him to be happy. He shouldn't revel in the fact that Spencer was single.

Despite warmth spreading through him due to Spencer's proximity, the silence was calming. Usually, the younger man talked a mile a minute, voicing fact after fact. But in the quiet of the warmth of the cab, Spencer was relaxed. The condensation on the window diffused the light, creating a glow that flickered as the cab passed streetlights. Between the alcohol and recurring flushes of yellow light, the night seemed different; not magical, but somehow unreal. Spencer was highlighted by a soft halo, the fine features of his face taking on an ethereal glow. Derek could imagine reaching over and touching Spencer's face, tracing those lips with his finger, then testing their fullness with his own mouth.

Soon, they reached Spencer's apartment building. The cabbie pulled over and Spencer began digging his pockets, then his satchel.

"Can't find money," he mumbled.

"I got it, man, don't worry," Derek assured him.

Spencer looked up and smiled at him. "You sure?"

Somehow, Derek managed to breath evenly as the full power of that sweet expression fixed on him. "Yeah, I got you covered."

Spencer nodded, then opened his door and stumbled as his foot caught on the curb. He barely managed to keep himself from face planting on the concrete.

"You gonna be okay, man?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," Spencer replied, waving off Derek's concern. He straightened and stepped onto the sidewalk, swaying slightly.

Derek frowned and pulled money out of his wallet before handing it to the driver with a regretful shrug.

The cab driver grinned. "Good choice; someone's gotta make sure that kid don't bash his head in."

As Derek got out of the cab, he hoped it wouldn't come to that. In all honesty, the world was spinning a bit for Derek as well. The only difference between Spencer and Derek was that Spencer was so damn skinny; he just looked fragile, like he needed extra looking after.

Quickly catching up to Spencer, Derek gently grasped his elbow. Spencer leaned into him and Derek caught his scent; paper, soap, coffee, dust and beer. The beer was a new one. They reached one of the buildings, a neat brick structure with white columns, divided up into two-story condos.

Spencer dug out his keys and worked on unlocking the door. He started muttering, many of his words inaudible. "Sorry, Der... you got places to be...."

He managed to open the door, then walked in. He stopped at the alarm panel. His hand wavered as he carefully punched in the alarm code, silencing the warning beeps.

"I'm thirsty, Derek. You thirsty? I'll get you some water," he mumbled. Spencer dropped his satchel, his scarf giving up the fight with gravity and dropping to the floor. "You know, most doctors recommend drinking a glass of water for each glass of alcohol imbibed to combat dehydration."

Derek locked the door behind him and picked up Spencer's bag and scarf. He tossed them onto the table next to the door before following the sound of Spencer's voice. The condo was what Derek had expected; a neat yet cluttered place, kept clean but with walls that were lined with filled bookshelves, tables covered in books and notes. Most of the furniture was of older design, nothing too modern, but nothing too ornate. Clean and simple lines, elegant.

Like Spencer.

Derek shook his head. _Jesus, no more wine for me. Turns me into a sap._

He wandered into the kitchen, a small room with fairly bare counters, and found Spencer drinking a glass of water.

"What about _my_ glass, man?" Derek leaned against a wall and watched. Finally, Spencer lowered the now-empty glass and licked his lips. Derek glanced away, noting a glass of water on the counter and cleared his throat. "Seriously, a glass of water per drink? Jesus, Spence, that big brain of yours ever turn off?"

Spencer slumped against the wall beside Derek and extended a glass of water. He fixed Derek with bashful grin and shrugged. "During sex."

Derek drank his water for lack of anything else to do but stare and say dickhead things like "which doesn't happen often," or "guess that means solo counts."

"Guess that means solo counts." _Fuck,_ Derek winced. _I'm a dickhead._

Spencer's face was red, eyes practically glued to the floor. Derek's heart pounded; he hadn't meant to say that out loud. _Fuck._ Then Spencer looked up and smiled, his eyes bright with something Derek couldn't quite decode.

"Until a better offer comes along? Yes."

Derek shut his eyes, his head dropping back against the wall. Unbidden, the mental image of of his friend mindlessly stroking himself toward orgasm popped into his mind. He could see Spencer's skin flushed, chest heaving as he bucked his hips. Jesus, the kid had big eyes and gorgeous lips, and Derek had come more than once imagining how Spencer would look on his knees or back, calling out Derek's name. He groaned low in his chest, growing half-hard. He then noticed the silence; he couldn't hear Spencer rambling.

He opened his eyes to find Spencer studying him carefully, his mouth slack with shock.

 _Damn it. Good one, Morgan._ He waited, his stomach tight, for Spencer to say something, watching as he raised his head and met Derek's eyes. Before Derek could process the emotions so plainly written across that expressive face, Spencer flung himself forward, long fingers gripping his shoulders as he pressed an open-mouthed kiss to the other man.

Derek was too stunned to move; for a handful of seconds, he could only breathe in Spencer's scent. But then Spencer tensed and started to pull away, and Derek's brain woke up. He reached out and wrapped his arms around Spencer's chest, pulling them together while kissing him back. They were the same height, hips and chest meeting perfectly. They were both so hard, their cocks rubbing together through too many layers of fabric. Spencer shoved his hands under Derek's jacket, palming his shoulders and chest.

Derek lowered his hands and grabbed Spencer's ass, squeezing and pulling him closer, forcing him to straddle one of his legs. With a muffled whine, Spencer began to grind against Derek's thigh, rocking his hip against Derek's cock. Derek slid his hands up Spencer's back, then down under his pants and boxers, Spencer's skin was smooth under his fingers, and Derek squeezed. A part of his mind observed that he was probably squeezing hard enough to bruise, but at Spencer's pleased groans, Derek ignored that thought.

After they eventually separated, Derek bit at the long, thin column of Spencer's throat, dragging his tongue over pale skin and stubble.

"Upstairs," Spencer panted. "I don't think I'll be able to stand much longer."

He moved away from the wall, Derek following suit. They snuck kisses every few steps, dropping clothes along the way. The stairs seemed an eternal journey, but finally they reached Spencer's bedroom.

As Spencer took off his pants, Derek set their guns on the nightstand before shoving his pants and underwear down, kicking them and his shoes off. He turned to find Spencer standing there in nothing but his boxers, staring at Derek's body with definite interest. They moved toward each other at the same time, Spencer's arms winding around his neck and pulling their mouths together for another deep kiss. Derek slid his hands across Spencer's back, stroking that skin before reaching his boxers, shoving them down his thighs before grabbing his ass and pulling their hips together. They groaned in unison as their hard cocks bumped together. Spencer pressed their mouths together again, his lips and tongue slipping and twisting as though tracing equations and patterns only Spencer knew.

"Damn, Spence, you've got some kissing skills; been holding out on me?" Derek gasped as they parted.

Spencer smiled impishly. "Yeah, I have." He leaned forward and dragged his tongue up Derek's throat, then bit at his earlobe.

Derek bucked his hips; his ears had always been a bit of a hot spot for him. "Fuck, kid. If I were any less drunk, I'd be fucking you into the mattress right now."

Spencer whimpered and pushed against him. "Yes," he hissed. Derek pushed his chest until Spencer lay on the bed. He leaned down and dragging the flat of his tongue up Spencer's dick, from balls to tip before sucking the head into his mouth.

"Fuck, Derek," Spencer moaned.

Jesus, Derek had never heard that word fall from Spencer's lips, ever, and that language from his mouth pulled a groan out of Derek. The vibrations caused Spencer to let out a ragged gasp and a bead of precum to well up, spilling onto Derek's tongue. He groaned again; everything about Spencer seemed to turn him on. He wrapped one hand around the base of Spencer's dick, stroking firmly. It was rough, dry, wrong. He pulled his mouth and hand off long enough to lick his palm.

"No, don't--" Before Spencer could fully voice his complaint, Derek's mouth and hand were back, pulling and sucking. Spencer started to pant, body writhing. Derek glanced up to see Spencer tossing his head, eyes squeezed shut and his hands clenched into the bedding.

"Fuck, Derek, please, please, I need to- I need to come, please," he sobbed.

Derek closed his eyes, focusing on his task. He tongued Spencer's slit, then lashed the head of his dick with his tongue. He moved his other hand from Spencer's hip and rolled his balls, squeezing in time with his strokes. With a broken cry, Spencer thrust his hips and came, shooting into Derek's mouth. A part of his stomach roiled at the taste, as it had the few times he'd done this willingly. But _this_ was Spencer, his Spencer, and he swallowed; he wanted as much of him as he could have.

As Spencer's dick started to soften, Derek pulled off. Even though he was still hard and still needed to come, he couldn't look away. Spencer lifted his hands, blindly groping for him. Finally, he opened his eyes and grabbed Derek's shoulders. He pulled himself up and straddled Derek's lap, resting his head on his shoulder. Small tremors still ran through him as he dropped one hand to Derek's lap, his fingers playing across tight, heated flesh.

Derek watched, entranced and aroused by the sight of Spencer's long fingers teasing and playing, then switching to stoke him lightly.

He looked over to find Spencer watching his face, a small, sleepy smile on his lips. He looked... content. Derek's breath caught in his chest at the expression. "Jesus, Spence; you trying to kill me?" he rasped.

Spencer's smile widened. "Now would I do that?"

Without breaking their gaze, Spencer imitated Derek, lifting his hand and licking it. He dropped his hand and began stroke Derek again, this time with more pressure and force. It wasn't long before Derek felt it--the tensing of his muscles, the growing pressure in his spine....

"Fuckfuckfuck," he muttered, fighting to keep his eyes open and on Spencer.

"Please, Derek, I want to see," Spencer said, his eyes tired, but glittering with excitement. "I want to see you come."

With a guttural cry, Derek pulled Spencer as close as he could, shaking. Lights flashed behind his eyes as he came, flying and floating in a beautiful darkness, anchored to Earth by Spencer's body. He flopped back onto the bed, the alcohol and orgasm pulling him toward sleep. The last thing he registered was Spencer wriggling around, pulling the covers out from under them, then covering them before curling up against him

* * * * * * * * * *

The next morning, Derek awoke to a throbbing head and the knowledge that he was not in his apartment. He took a deep breath and focused, tracing his steps from what he could remember.

He'd been drunk, though not as much as Spencer had been. There was the cab, then Spencer's apartment, then.... Derek groaned as lust, shame and fear flared inside. He could feel Spencer curled up against him, his back pressed to Derek's chest. He could feel each breath he took, skin warm and soft against him, their legs tangled together.

 _Fuck fuck fuck!_ At the top of a very long list of things Derek didn't ever want to do was hurting Spencer. Also at the top was fucking up the team. They were a skilled, cohesive unit, practically family. He didn't want to mess that up. And maybe more importantly, he cared about Spencer, he really did. He was a good friend, and if sometimes, late at night when Derek needed some kind of release, Spencer also served as a fantasy, so what?

But he'd never meant to go through with it, never meant to risk everything for one drunk night Spencer would regret. _Fuck._

He sat up and looked around, hissing as dried come pulled the hairs of his stomach. His underwear lay in a tangled heap with his pants and shoes next to the bed. His shirt wasn't to be found, nor was his jacket. He quietly rose, pulling his clothes on with stealthy haste. Soon enough, he was dressed. He reached out and grabbed his gun from where it rested on the beside table. Ready to leave, he turned to face the bed. Spencer had rolled over to his other side, one arm stretched out as he frowned. He was so fragile, blue veins visible on his hands, dark circles under his eyes. Spencer could take care of himself, he'd proven that, but that didn't stop Derek from wanting to protect him, to cover that body with his own and kiss every inch of him. Derek squeezed his eyes shut and turned away. He needed to leave. He glanced at his watch. Hell, he had to be at work in two hours and he needed to find his fucking shirt.

"Derek?"

He turned around, steeling himself. Spencer was sitting up, sheets and blankets pooled around his waist. His hair was a mess as he rubbed sleepily at his eyes. When he dropped his hand, they trepidation in his eyes was evident.

"Hey, man. I was just gonna let you sleep."

"Oh, thanks." Spencer cleared his throat. He dropped his eyes to his lap, his fingers plucking at the fuzz balls on the blanket. "I guess we should talk, I mean, about last night."

Derek took a deep breath. Yeah, last night had been a mistake, but fuck, it had been good. Spencer's slender body, arching and pulling at his, it had been perfect. He looked at the tense lines of Spencer's shoulders, and felt like total scum. They needed to talk, but he couldn't do it yet, he wasn't ready. There was too much he wanted, and he couldn't let it show. If he stayed here now... it'd show, alright. And judging by Spencer's hesitant, almost fearful, body language, Derek was heading for a let down; he didn't need to make Spencer feel worse.

"It's fine, man. Things happen, and we can't do anything about it. We just move on, no hard feelings?"

Spencer looked up, wide eyes analyzing him. "Yeah, sure."

Derek grinned; he could feel the good humor fade before it hit his eyes, and he knew Spencer could see it. Without warning, all the air seemed to leave the room as Spencer's penetrating gaze turned sad. Hell, it was pitying.

The last thing Derek needed was for Spence to see the truth of his pathetic crush. He needed to leave before he fucked things up even more. "Good. I'll see you at the office."

Derek turned and walked out of the room. He found his shirt on the stairs, his jacket in the kitchen. He was out of the condo in one minute and thirty-seven seconds flat.

* * * * * * * * * *

_6 Days Later_

It was Thursday evening. Emily, Penelope and J.J. had started a tradition; a day or so after returning from a case, they would get together for takeout and a movie. As usual, Will had fled the apartment, mumbling something about meeting up with a beat cop he knew from way back when. He no longer looked as frightened when the three women from the BAU meet up for what Will affectionately called a "hen party." But he still didn't stick around.

As the women ate, "Notting Hill" played in the background.

"You need to eat more pizza," Penelope pouted. "You're giving me issues."

J.J. smirked as she dug into her grilled chicken salad.

"Sorry, but I'm still freaking out about making sure Junior gets enough vegetables," she said, patting her belly where her child was slowly but surely growing.

Penelope grabbed a slice of the Hawaiian Hula Magic Special and held it out, waving it under, J.J.'s nose. "See, fruit! Healthy!"

Emily snickered. When the others looked at her, she smirked and carefully picked up a single piece of pineapple and popped it in her mouth.

"Mm... healthy," she said.

J.J. rolled her eyes.

"Sorry, but I just... I feel like an elephant. I had to order a new bullet proof vest," she said mournfully.

Emily and Penelope's heads snapped up to look at her.

J.J. raised her hands in surrender. "I'm not going out in the field, I just wanted to make sure that I have one in case I can't avoid something. You know with our work."

"Fine," Penelope sighed. "It makes sense, I guess, but Auntie Penelope doesn't like the idea of her Peanut in harms way."

J.J. grinned and went back to her salad while Emily and Penelope dug into their pizza. After a few moments of watching Hugh Grant nervously stammer, Penelope finished her food. She then began painting Emily's fingernails a bright shade of green. Each time they got together, Penelope would show up with a new paint color. Emily and J.J. always consented to having their finger and toe nails painted, though the color was always gone from their hands the following day, their toes covered by sensible black shoes.

As Penelope finished one hand, Emily spoke up.

"Have you noticed anything odd about Reid and Morgan lately?" she asked.

"No, not really," J.J. said. She'd finished her salad and had moved on to her special order of teriyaki chicken wings.

"Me neither. Derek still flirts with me like he always does," Penelope said. She paused. "Though he has seemed a bit distracted lately."

"Yes, that's what I mean. And it's the same with Spencer!" Emily said.

J.J. frowned and stared at the t.v. blankly. She snapped her fingers and looked away. "Derek didn't tease him!"

Emily narrowed her eyes as she nodded. "That's right. No 'boy genius' or 'tough guy,' or anything about his hangover the morning after the baby shower."

"Do you think they got in a fight or something?" Penelope asked. "Maybe Derek teased him too much and got Spencer mad."

Emily considered it, then shook her head. "No, there isn't hostility. But when they think no one is looking, they seem... hyper-aware of each other, nervous. They're each waiting for the other to get upset over something."

"Maybe he found out Spencer is bi," J.J. suggested.

"He is?" Emily asked, eyebrows raised. Her shock didn't prevent her from unfolding her legs, baring her toes to the nail polish. "I didn't know."

"He doesn't advertise it, but it came up after our 'date,'" J.J. explained.

"Date?" Emily echoed.

"Well before you joined us, my dear," Penelope said, not even glancing up from her work.

J.J. smiled. "It was a date to a football game, but Spencer was just so out of place and uncomfortable. Afterwards, we went out and had coffee, just talking. And I asked him if he'd ever had a long term relationship, and he said the longest was with a guy in college. Two weeks."

"Two weeks? How could anyone not want him for longer?" Penelope asked. "Hello, adorable genius!"

"Spencer said he was distracted with school, but I think this was around the time he had his mother committed. Anyways, maybe he said something about it. He doesn't like to talk about his private life, especially since a lot of people can be weird about it. Maybe that's what happened with Derek. I wouldn't be surprised if Derek was a bit leery of gay men, especially one who's a close friend, after everything that happened."

Penelope scooted across the floor to J.J.'s feet and peeled off the pregnant woman's fuzzy socks. "I don't think it's latent homophobia," she said. "I always talk to Derek about my gays, and he's fine about it, doesn't get twitchy or anything."

"Your gays?" Emily asked.

"Yes, my gays. My dear, sweet gay friends who do my hair and help me shop; my gays."

"So you talk about them with Derek and he doesn't seem uncomfortable?" J.J. confirmed.

"Nope."

"So as far as you know, Derek has no lingering issues with gay men," J.J. confirmed.

At Penelope's head shake, Emily spoke up. "How can you be so sure, Garcia?"

"You mean aside from the massive amounts of sexual tension between him and Reid?"

J.J.'s eyes went wide. "Sexual tension?"

Penelope stared at them. "Please tell me I'm not the only one who figured out that the teasing was flirting; you're profilers!"

"Oh my god, you're right," Emily said, eyes wide as her mind made connections. "And until last Friday, neither of them seemed uncomfortable."

"So what do you think happened?" J.J. asked. Penelope returned to the couch and pulled J.J.'s hands onto her leg. Carefully, she began applying the color.

Penelope flapped her hand dismissively. "Oh please, you take two guys with crushes on each other, add massive amounts of alcohol, and bam! Gay encounter."

J.J. shook her head. "Okay, so something of an intimate nature occurred; what do we do now?"

"Well, we could go for the tried and true closet method," Penelope suggested.

J.J.'s eyes widened.

"The closet method?" Emily asked, laughing incredulously.

"Yeah, we lock them up together in a small closet where they have to rub against each other and viola, problem solved."

J.J.'s eyebrows nearly brushed her hairline. "When does that ever work?"

Penelope deflated. "Gay fanfic."

"How about we just try to get them to talk?" Emily suggested.

"Fine, be boring," Penelope pouted.

"Let's just hope it works," J.J. added. "They might want to avoid talking."

"Yeah, why do men always to that stoic, posturing thing?" Emily asked. "It's irritating."

Penelope nodded. "Yeah, boys are dumb."

_Three Weeks Later_

As it turned out, it was a lot harder to get Derek and Spencer alone than anticipated. The first few times they'd tried to get them alone at the office, the two men had found excuses to leave, citing work. Then there had been the two cases, at which time J.J. and Emily had tried to get them to sit together on the plane or in restaurants. That hadn't worked.

They'd just finished a case, and were spending their Friday finishing paperwork. Eventually, J.J. and Emily drifted into Penelope's office.

"So no luck with project 'Closet?'" Penelope asked, turning her chair around and standing. She looked at J.J. and pointed at her chair. Rolling her eyes, J.J. sat. She'd given up insisting that she didn't need to sit down.

"No," Emily answered. "We just ended up playing musical chairs all the way to and from Boise. They wouldn't stay in their seats once we left."

"Yeah, it was really rude. I'd go through all the trouble of standing up and moving, only to have them refuse to sit together."

"There's an idea," Penelope said. "We tell them to get together because Peanut demands it!"

J.J. laughed. "Somehow, I don't think telling them that my unborn son wants them in a relationship will work."

"What if we say Peanut says they need to work things out?"

"Actually," Emily started, "I think I may have an idea."

"Ooh, what?" Penelope asked, clapping her hands.

Outside of Penelope's office, a computer analyst walked by just as Emily finished outlining of her plan. For the next three weeks, there would be a rumor that Penelope was hiding cackling chickens in her office.

_That Evening_

It was easy getting everyone to go out for drinks on a Friday. Emily had convinced Derek to come, while J.J. had used her pregnant woman guilt vibes to bring Spencer along. Emily promised to drive Spencer home, forcing him to wait until she was ready to leave. She watched, waiting until Derek said his goodbyes and left. She quickly said her goodbyes, and hurried Spencer out of the bar.

They crossed the street to where Derek stood by his car. As Derek began to unlock his car, Emily's phone rang. She answered, ignoring Penelope's giggling on the other end.

"Oh, hey Mom. No, nothing much. Yeah, sure. Well, I need to drop a coworker off first, but.... Okay, fine, I'll see what I can do." She hung up and then turned a pleading gaze to Derek.

"I'm so sorry you guys, but my Mom needs me to come see her right away. She's upset about something. Could you drop Spencer off at his place?" Derek opened his mouth. "Great! Thanks so much, Derek. I owe you!" Emily walked away quickly, heading around the block to her car.

Derek rubbed his hand over the back of his neck as the two men stole glances at each other.

"So, Derek, um...." Spencer trailed off. He looked uncomfortable, almost afraid.

Derek grinned, though it failed to stretch as wide as it normally would. "Yeah?"

"Have you noticed that J.J., Garcia, and Prentiss keep trying to get us alone together?"

"Yeah, I have. It'd be hard not to. Did you tell them something?"

"What? No, I didn't think you'd want anyone to know," Spencer admitted, looking at the ground.

"So they figured it out on their own," Derek said, sighing. He was suddenly sick to his stomach, afraid he'd truly gone and ruined the team. Then he realized. "I don't think Hotch and Rossi have figured it out. Or if they have, they honestly don't care."

"I'm sorry I've been acting all weird. I just feel so bad; if I'd been sober, I wouldn't have forced you to... you know."

Spencer's eyes were earnest, greener than usual. He looked guilty. But then, Spencer did know what had happened before. His agile mind had probably come up dozens of ways in which Spencer had coerced or hurt Derek. He was blaming himself.

"You didn't force me to do anything, Spencer," he said, swallowing past the knot in his chest. "You're a good looking guy, it wasn't exactly a hardship. And it wasn't the first time I'd had some fun with a guy."

"Oh. Good." The majority of the tension seemed to melt as Spencer glanced around them, observing their surroundings. A young couple walked past, laughing and holding hands. They turned a corner, and the street was quiet once more.

"Besides," Derek said, hesitatingly, breaking the silence. "I had less to drink. I should have controlled myself better."

Spencer frowned. "Controlled? As in keeping control of a situation or as in...."

"As in?" Derek prompted. Hell, he'd come this far, told this much. How could he make things worse?

"As in exercising restraint."

Spencer's face had that nervously befuddled look on this face, the look that showed his confusion and uncertainty, afraid he'd get the answer wrong and be punished. Derek hated that fucking look.

"As in exercising restraint, controlling my desires. What I did, my desires toward you, they were there long before it happened." His heart pounded in his chest. This was the moment he'd feared, the moment when Spencer explained that his feelings weren't returned, and their friendship was over. He wanted to punch a brick wall or drive his fist through a window. Anything to purge the tight ball of regret and longing burning in his gut.

"Me too," Spencer whispered.

Derek's heart stopped. He couldn't have heard right. "What?"

"I- I said, 'me too,'" Spencer said louder, smiling timidly.

Derek's heart started to beat again, relief and hope flooding through him. He didn't know what to say, so he reached out one hand and clasped one of Spencer's hands, his thumb stroking the back of Spencer's hand.

Spencer blushed, causing lust to surge through Derek.

"Jesus, kid, every time you blush, I get hard enough to pound nails."

The blush intensified as Spencer's smile turned teasing. "Actually, if memory serves, you mentioned something about 'fucking me into the mattress.'"

Derek groaned. He glanced up and down the street quickly, before shoving Spencer against his car and kissing him. Within seconds, they were moaning and rocking against each other, the world forgotten.

From inside, J.J. and Penelope grinned, their noses pressed against the window of the pub. Around the corner from Derek's car and the two kissing men, they could see Emily peering out, a wide, excited grin on her face. Eventually, Emily got in her car and drove by them, honking victoriously and waving at J.J. and Penelope. The two men jumped apart, Spencer's face red. For a second, they hesitated. Then Spencer nearly ran around to the passenger side door while Derek fumbled with his keys. In seconds, Derek peeled away from the curb. J.J. was grinning while Penelope was giggling in a pitch audible only to dogs.

"What are you looking at?" Hotch asked. J.J. and Penelope jumped and quickly around turned to find him drifting over toward them, his brow furrowed in suspicious concentration.  
J.J. and Penelope fought the blushes they felt creeping up their faces.

"Nothing," J.J. finally said, using the same general, bland smile that she used to pacify territorial cops. Hotch looked at her closely, then turned to Penelope.

"Garcia?"

Her mouth opened, then closed, then opened again, thoughts and phrases like "Squee!" and "Oh my God," swirling through her mind. Finally, before she a could pull an answer from the ether of her lust-addled brain, Hotch sighed deeply and shook his head.

"I don't want to know, do I?" he asked.

J.J. and Penelope, as though sharing a brain, glanced at each other, the looked back at Hotch and answered in tandem:

"No."

THE END


End file.
